Hanging Christmas Lights
by The Voices Talk to Me
Summary: What happens when America tries to hang Christmas lights with England around? Nothing but arguing, that's what!  A pointless story based on a Yahoo! article and review. Contains bad sexual puns, British slang, and almost smut.  Enjoy and Season Greetings!


What's up boys and girls! It's me, _T__he Unites States of America_, here to tell you about a totally awesome Christmas story! Now see, I know that it's already Christmas day as I'm telling you this story, but I just remembered about it when Japan asked me about my lights. So, let me tell you how it goes...

* * *

><p>"America! What in the name of the Queen are you doing?" England yelled out at me about a month ago. See, it was a month because <em>all<em> good Americans hang their Christmas lights the day after Thanksgiving. So after eating Thanksgiving dinner for breakfast that morning, I set outside to start hanging me some good ole lights!

So, anyways, I jumped off the ladder I was standing on and walked over to where Iggy was standing. "Nothing, bro. Just hanging up some X-Mas lights."

"Now? Isn't a tad bit early for that?" Iggy asked, glancing up at my blue Christmas Light Hanging ladder. I glanced up at it, too, for a good measure. I was also wondering what he saw in my ladder, because all it was was blue and metallic. Well maybe he thought it was cool and shiny, because shiny stuff is pretty awesome and stuff.

"Do you think my ladder is shiny?" I asked him. He looked at me like I was crazy. Hey! It was an innocent question! It was just a ladder. A cool, shiny, awesome, epic, Hanging Christmas Light hanging ladder.

"What does that have to do with my initial question?" Iggy asked me again.

"What initial question?" I questioned. Heh-heh, did you see how I repeated my action? I know, it was cool.

"You insufferable git," I heard England mutter under his breath. He thought that I couldn't hear him, but I _could_! "The question about your Christmas lights."

Oh, yeah. That.

"Yeah. No, no it's not. All good Americans hang Christmas lights the day after Thanksgiving. Duh Iggy." I told him. I watched his face get a bit red. Heh-heh, probably because I called him Iggy. I don't know why he doesn't like that nickname. It's a chill name. I wish I had a cool nickname like that. Oh, wait, I _do_! It's the USA! Yeah! Never mind my little sentences of self-doubt.

"I thought I told you not to call me that!" he yelled at me. I saw his eyes starting to become little white circles again. That was kinda scary. But not as scary as ghosts. Those are as scary as Belarus.

"Yeah, you did. But, dude, it's an awesome nickname for you!" I told him, reaching over to mess with his hair like he would have done when I was a little colony.

"You know, I'm going to ignore that." Iggy told me as he pushed my hand away, then pushed me (Or tried to push me. I'm far to strong to be pushed aside by England. I just stepped back some) aside to look at my Sterlite bin of X-Mas lighting. "So what do you have here?" he asked me.

"Well dude, nothing for you to tie me up with, that's for sure!" I announced to him. His face got all red again and those white-circle eyes came back!

"What's that supposed to imply?" he screeched.

"Take it as you will. We _both_ know the truth." I told him, then began going through my bin to see what else I was gonna hang. Iggy's mouth kept on opening and closing like a gaping fish. That reminds me of my whale...such a great, big whale...I miss him. He's down south right now because it's about to get too cold for him up here in NY.

"So I have a _bunch_ of lights, England! I have red one's and green one's and white one's and one's that flash the entire rainbow _plus_ black and white and some more colors, and - "

"You git, _shut the bloody hell up_!" Iggy shouted at me. What's with all the shouting today? I mean, that's the only thing he's been doing since he stepping foot on my property! He's not being a very good guest.

"England, you're not being a very good guest." I told him, which was pretty much what I just thought.

"Well you're not being a very good host! Implying innuendos and such!"

"Dude! But they're _true_! I can't help the truth."

"The truth? _What_ truth?"

"That we sleep together!"

"We do _not_ sleep together!"

"Then what did we do last week?"

"What do you mean, we did we do last week?"

"You know, when you came over to see those UN reports, and we got into an argument about our foods, and we ended up in my room, and _then_ - " I told him, listing off everything that happened that day. Sadly, he cut me off right when I was about to get to the good part.

"Shut up! We will not discuss that out in public!" his eyes were seriously white circles now. Such blank, white eyes. So creepy...so creepy...

"Oh, so we _were_ sleeping together."

"Shut the hell up!"

"Okay England, we're gonna stop arguing now. It's starting to get dark and I _really_ wanna finish this _today_..." I told him, 'cause I realized that we weren't getting anywhere with this. Well, it's not like we get anywhere but the bed when we argue.

"Oh, look at you! Trying to be responsible of all things! Since when have you been responsible and reasonable?" Iggy asked. I was wondering if any of my neighbors were wondering what all of this yelling was about. England and I have a tendency get get pretty loud when we're together.

"Uh, since now, I guess." I answered.

"You know what, _fine_. I'll help with your blasted lights. Just shut your cakehole and hush up."

"Redundancy! An important part of every British sentence!" I told him, trying to lighten the atmosphere. And you guys thought that I couldn't read it, did you? Well, I fooled ya'll! I just choose _not_ to read it! And ignore it! It's just _so much easier_ not to pay it any attention.

"I said shut it." England told me, pushing me away _again_ to look at my lights. "Well, these are fairly well. I'll get to hanging them." he said to himself, I guess, 'cause I really couldn't hear what he said. I guess a normal person wouldn't be able to hear it, 'cause I have _Superman_ hearing! But, anyways, I set down on a pile of crunch leafs to admire England's work. Sadly, I got bored 'cause he works too slow and he keeps on singing weird British songs. So I ended up taking a nap, since it was pretty warm and comfy in these leafs.

I dreamed of cats that look like the Allies and Axis. And ice cream. Lots of ice cream...

"Oh, blast it all! The damned ladder isn't tall enough!" was what I woke up to later. I check my watch. It said: 5:29. Darn, I'd only been asleep for about half an hour!

"Iggy, what's wrong?" I asked him while yawning at the same time. Maybe that's why he didn't say anything about me calling him Iggy again.

"The ladder isn't going to let me reach all the way up." England said, stepping off the ladder.

"It might have something to do with the fact of how short you are." I told him as I got out of my leaf bed.

"I am not short." England told me.

"Well, you're shorter than me!" I announced, because he _was_ shorter than me!

"You and your stupid American egos..." Iggy muttered. I patted him on his back.

"It's gonna be okay, Iggy. I came _prepared_." I told him, then dashed to the back of my house. I ran to my shed and pulled out two five-gallon (that's 18.927 liters for you British folk!) buckets. Then I ran back to the front of my house. "Here ya go, Iggy." I told him, then thrust them into him.

"And what in the name of the Queen are _these_ for?" he asked me.

"Well, _duh_, they're for propping the ladder on!" I told him.

"How great of a cabbage can you be, America? That's a brilliant way to injure yourself!"

"Dude, no it's not! I've been doing that for _year__s_ without hurting myself."

"Then why not buy a tall enough ladder? Wouldn't that make a hell of a lot more sense?"

"No dude, it's all a conspiracy! The ladder companies just want you to spend all of your money on a bunch of ladders, claiming that it's 'safer' to have 'multiple' ladders of different lengths for every job! What if I don't want to spend all of my money on big, long ladders? I have a decent sized one right here, that I've been on for _years_ and I've just fine and dandy with using him!"

Iggy was staring at me again.

"You can be serious. And they call _me_ a nutter!"

"Dude, you're loosing me with all that British slang." I told him.

"You say that as if the rest of the nations don't have problems trying to understand you!"

"Well, they don't! I speak English, you know." I told him.

"Yes, I _do_ know, you git! I'm the one who taught it to you! But I obviously didn't teach you well, because you took it and mangled it to the death!"

"It's gonna be okay, England! It's gonna be okay! It's not my fault that your English was all stuffy and boring. I just had to liven it up a bit."

"I'm not going to say anything. Nothing at all. Nothing at all..." Iggy said and stated pacing around again.

"Okay, dude, it's okay. Nothing bad's gonna happen." I tried to reassure him. Soon enough though, we started arguing some more over something stupid. And then he jumped on me. I guess he snapped, 'cause he flipped me over, and started yanking on my hair and screaming British cuss words at me. And then he yanked Nantucket. Which made me whimper like a complete chick. And then England kept on yanking on Nantucket. So by way of Nantucket being a E-zone for me, I flipped the hell outta England.

"What the bloody hell was _that_ for?" he screamed out from under me. I pinned his hand down.

"You kept on touching Nantucket. You must pay the price." I told him as I looked into his bright green eyes. Such a nice shade of green...so lovely...

"And what is Nantucket?" he asked. I pointed to my ahoge.

"_This_ is Nantucket."

"Oh, great. You've gotten so attached that that wild piece of hair that you've actually named it."

"Yeah, well, I'm at a loss for anything to say, so..." I told him, and then I totally went in. And by that I meant by I started stroking his eyebrows.

"Nnn. Git, w-what's that for?" Iggy asked.

"For trying to molest me by way of Nantucket." I said, then stroked his right eyebrow again.

"Why would I remember something like that for?"

"_Because_," I said, stroking his caterpillar in the opposite direction. It made him arch towards me, "tugging on my hair might make me cum on the spot."

"W-well, stop!" he shouted, 'cause I licked the eyebrow. It tasted like tea. Yuck. He doesn't even sweeten it with sugar!

"Maybe, dude, but I had _other_ plans." I told him.

"And what are those _other_ plans?" Iggy questioned.

"You know what they are." I said, then scooped him up bridal-style. ('cause I so _totally_ top! he's _my_ bitch!)

"You know America, you talk way too much." he told him.

"Well, maybe I'll shut up now." I said, then kissed England, making our way towards my bedroom.

* * *

><p>And that, boys and girls, is the story of when I was trying to hang my Christmas lights back in twenty-eleven. I would have continued the story but I'm trying to keep it within T guidelines. Needless to say, I got a shitload of nothing done to decorate my house that day. (Well, besides our clothes, but that's another story)<p>

* * *

><p><strong><em>British Slang:<em>  
><strong>

**cabbage - idiot  
>nutter - crazy person<strong>

**Everything else is pretty much already the definition of British slang, so you should already know what it means!  
><strong>

**Seasons Greetings to all!  
>This is my gift to you, for whatever holiday you might be celebrating this year.<br>I had wanted to write this earlier this month, but I never gotten around to it. And then I just felt like writing it today.  
>It took up a good part of two hours to write this. <em>And<em> my parents were arguing in the background. That's some dedication!  
>And I had <em>really<em> wanted to write the _entire_ scene out, but I just couldn't bring myself to it. I'm just not used to writing smut. Which greatly surprises my bestie, 'cause as perverted as I am, she expected me to only have smut as my stories. *Sigh*  
>Anyways, I did dedicated it partially to her. Which means she better get up here and review it!<br>Be on the lookout for another Hetalia fic, probably GerIta. And it _will_ be smut.  
>Sadly, my computer broke. And I was almost done with writing it. (Didn't get to the smut, though) And it was gonna be so <em>good<em>!**

***Sigh* Review please, because I'm a review whore. :)  
><strong>


End file.
